Wine Country
by SurlyCoach
Summary: When Coach Taylor plans a romantic escape to Virginia wine country, things go terribly awry.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Tweaking and restoring an old deleted piece to archive. Heavily betaed - - read co-authored ;) - - by ICanStopAnytime. 

**Chapter One**

"You know what I think, babe? It's time." Tami nodded to herself from the passenger seat.

Eric turned into the campus of Braemore. He was dropping off Tami on his way to work. She'd totaled her car. His first question had been, "Are you a'ight?" When she was, his second question hadn't been, "What the hell were you thinking? Do you know how much this is going to cost?" He'd probably _thought_ that, but he'd hadn't _said_ it. He'd just said, "I'm glad you're a'ight, babe. I'm glad you're safe."

"Time for what?" he asked, stopping at a crosswalk for some college kids to pass.

"To take that vacation, just the two of us."

"What vacation?" he asked. "The one you've been talking about ever since Julie was born?"

"Yeah, that one. Do you realize we've never gone away alone together? We've taken family vacations, and we've had an overnight here and there at nearby hotel, but we've never gone _away_, just you and me, for more than one night."

"I took you on a honeymoon."

"To Houston."

"Yeah, it's a nice city."

"Twenty-two years ago."

"We drove cross country together," he insisted. "From Dillon to Phili."

"Yeah, in two separate cars."

"We stayed in hotels," he reminded her.

"_Mo_tels. After driving for ten hours a day."

"A'ight, you want a vacation, I'll take a vacation. I'd like a vacation alone with you. Why wouldn't I? But who's gonna watch Gracie?"

"Well, I was thinking we'd go the first week of summer, when you're off. Julie'll be off from school, maybe she can come down and watch her, just three nights, three days. A little getaway. She's got that job, you know, but she does all the work from home anyway. She can bring her computer."

Eric pulled up to the curb by the Dean's office. "You know we're going to have to fly her down then, right? We're going to have to pay for that ticket. And we've got to repair the car. And then if you and I fly somewhere – "

"We won't fly, we'll drive. Let's drive down to Virginia. Visit all those wineries."

"What's that? Three hours?"

"That's _not_ a long drive, hon. Three hours wouldn't even get you a third of the way out of Texas."

Eric turned off the car instead of letting it idle. "I didn't say it was a long drive," he protested. "I just _asked_ how long it was."

"We could stay at a nice bed and breakfast."

"Nah, I don't want to stay at any b&b."

"Why not? They're so quaint and romantic."

"It's weird," he said. "It's like being a guest in somebody's house."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is. And then you have to sit down to breakfast with all these people you don't know. And you have to talk to them."

"Aww, poor baby," she said. She reached out a hand to tussle his hair. "It's hard for you to talk to strangers, isn't it?"

"It's not that it's hard. I just don't _like_ it. And they yap. They yap and yap about their European vacations and how this is their sixteenth time in wine country and how they couldn't decide between the $100 bottle of Chardonnay or the $90 bottle of Pinot Noir. "

"I don't think Virginia has any $100 bottles of Chardonnay. And who are these people, Eric? You know about these people because of all the bed and breakfasts you've been staying in while I wasn't looking?"

"I just imagine that's what it's like," he said grumpily. "I'm never going to see them again. What's the point of having an hour-long breakfast conversation with someone I'm never going to see again? You know who I want to talk to on my vacation, Tami? You. Just you."

"Well we could stay in a cave," she said, grabbing up her purse and adjusting her sun glasses.

"Yeah," he said, "That'd be nice. A nice, private cave."

She laughed and kissed him. "Think about," she said.

"A'ight."

She opened and closed the door. He started the car again. Three nights alone with his wife, no child to interrupt them. The sex would be fantastic. Unless it was sex in somebody else's house. In their old, "quaint," creaky-floored b&b. And he'd been thinking the whole time about how the inn keeper could hear the bed moving. That wouldn't be so fantastic.

Wait, would they have cable at a b&b? Would he be able to watch football?

Three nights. Three days. They hadn't done that since their honeymoon. What the hell were they going to do with all of that time? What were they going to say to each other? Suddenly, he was a little nervous. Maybe what had made this marriage work so well was the fact that they had _never_ spent a really long stretch of time completely alone together.

**/-*- /**

Coach Taylor blocked out the sound of the laughter and the shouting from the locker room. He'd locked the door of his office and shut the blinds. The baseball team was out there now. Football season was over. But his office was still attached to the locker room. At least there was a door that opened to the outside hallway, too, though. He liked Tami to be able to stop by every now and then for lunch, and she sure as hell wasn't going to walk through the boy's locker room.

He stared at the computer screen. He clicked on the Internet icon. It took him straight to Google. Assistant Coach Thomas had some kind of passionate hatred for Google. Said it was a conspiracy. That Google was working with Amazon to take over the world and establish a consumer slave class or something like that. Coach Taylor didn't know quite what to do about Coach Thomas. The man was an absolute nutjob. But he'd been on staff when Coach Taylor got the job. He'd known the team. And he knew football. Coach Taylor just did his best to avoid any non-football related conversations with the man. When Coach Thomas would get to spinning his conspiracies theories, Coach Taylor would change the subject just as fast as he could. But Thomas wasn't just weird about corporate conspiracies. He'd say other strange things and trip Coach Taylor up. Like the first time Tami had stopped by and surprised him for lunch, and after she'd left, Coach Thomas had asked, "Why is your wife so hot?"

"What?" Coach Taylor had asked.

"Why is your wife so hot?"

"Well…uh…she was born that way I guess. And she works at it some too. Wait. Don't call my wife hot."

"But she is."

"Yeah, but don't _notice_. I mean – - don't _announce_ that you notice." Coach Taylor had grunted, shook his head. "Nevermind." Then he'd walked away.

He clicked on the Google search box now and typed in "Romantic private hotels Virginia wine country." He clicked search. He scrolled down through the results, skimmed the words beneath the links, kept seeing "bed and breakfast," "bed and breakfast," "bed and breakfast."

He went back up to the box and typed "Leesburg Virginia hotels."

Comfort Suites came up first. That would not fly with Tami. A little further down there was a resort. Oooh…that looked good. Oh, a golf resort. That also would not fly with Tami. Well, maybe. It's not like they _had_ to golf. He didn't even like golf. He golfed with Buddy in Dillon every now and then. He always lost. Nobody ever ran in golf. There was no tackling. There was the whacking sound when the club hit the ball, but that wasn't nearly as satisfying as the thud when a man hit a man. He wasn't even sure where his golf clubs were anymore. One of the six unpacked boxes in the garage, no doubt. But resorts had pools and spas and fancy mints on the pillows, and that would make Tami happy.

He clicked on the link to the resort. Then he clicked on "packages and special offers." He skimmed quickly. He had only ten minutes before his Driver's Ed class and knew he had to be efficient. He clicked next on "Romantic Escape Packages." There was a picture of lots of fall leaves and a couple kissing. A young couple. A very young couple. Maybe people who'd been married twenty-two years weren't supposed to go on romantic escapes.

Why didn't they just put the damn prices on the packages? You had to pretend like you were going to book something just to figure it out. This was going to take time. He glanced at his watch. Eight more minutes. He did the typing and the click throughs as fast as he could and put in a random late-June date before clicking "check for availability." He glanced at his watch again. Six minutes. The little circle thing on the screen kept circling. Well, crap. He'd have to do this later. Maybe after school. He didn't have to pick up Gracie right away, but he'd wanted to get an idea and have something to offer Tami. Something to talk her out of that nonsensical b&b idea.

The circle stopped spinning and the price popped up. "Oh, hell no," he said. "Hell no!" He sighed and shut down the computer, grabbed his room keys from off the desk, and headed to Driver's Ed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Coach Taylor slammed on the break on the right side of the car. The car ground to a halt. "Why'd you do that?" the teenage girl next to him asked. Her blond bangs were bouncing from the impact.

"Because there's a fuhh - fine stop sign right there. Didn't you see it?"

"Oh."

"Just go down here and turn left back into the school parking lot." Coach Taylor leaned his elbow on the window sill. He put his hand on his forehead and rubbed. And rubbed.

He never had to do this in Dillon. The assistant coaches taught driver's ed and health and that sort of thing. He never did. A P.E. class here and there. Never this. Tami better be grateful to him for making this move to Phili. She better be damn grateful. She better show him some gratitude on this getaway this summer.

_The getaway._ Damn. He was going to have to figure something out there. They couldn't afford that resort. Not if they were going to pay the mortgage on that new house with the monstrously large, unnecessary his and hers closets _and_ put a reasonable amount in Gracie's college fund for the year. But he really didn't want to have sex in someone's creaky house. And he didn't have a chance of getting laid in the Comfort Suites. He had to figure out something.

"Sorry," the girl said. She drove back toward the school parking lot. "But you'll still give me an A, right? I can't have it hurt my G.P.A. Anything lower than an A will bring down my G.P.A. And then my class rank will drop below 25."

Coach Taylor shook his head. There was some crazy academic competition in this east coast suburb. "Why didn't you just take driver's ed credit no credit?"

"Because I already took P.E. credit no credit. You can only take one. Will I get an A?"

"Look!" He slammed on the break again.

"There's no stop sign."

"No, there's a crosswalk. And someone getting ready to step into it."

One of his players actually, who waved at him, bent down at the open window on his side of the car, and whispered, "You get Maddie today? Good luck, Coach."

"Where you goin'?" Coach Taylor asked as the boy stood back up. "You better not be leaving school grounds. Because if you get in trouble for that again – "

"It's off season, Coach. What are they gonna do?"

"Not let you start next year."

"Nah…" His fullback waved his hand flippantly and walked off. "They won't do that," he shouted over his shoulder.

"So," Maddie asked. "About that A…"

Coach Taylor sighed. "The only way you're getting an A in driver's ed is if you can tell me where I can get a nice, romantic place to stay in Virginia wine country that doesn't cost $200 a night and that doesn't require me to actually stay in someone else's house and eat breakfast with strangers."

Maddie pulled into one of the parking spaces reserved for the driver's ed vehicles. She was over the line, but he didn't bother about it. "Taking your wife on a little trip?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, relieved.

"I know _**just**_the place."

**/-*-/**

"Just tell me!" Tami insisted. Her arm was leaned on the rolled-down window. They were taking the SUV. Summer had finally arrived. It was the first day school was out. The trip would only be three overnights, but still they took the SUV. They wanted plenty of room for all those cases of wine they'd be bringing home. Eric had given her a beautiful, handcarved wine rack for her birthday that fall. He'd had one of his P.E. students make it. Usually she got flowers and champagne on her birthday and then something practical like a clicker for the garage. The wine rack had been a pleasant variation.

"It's a surprise."

She drummed the window sill with long, slender fingers. Her dark red painted nails clicked on its surface. "I don't like surprises."

"You love surprises."

"Yeah, when they just suddenly surprise me. Or when I have to wait under twenty-five minutes for them. Not when I have to drive almost four hours before I find out what they are. You didn't get a motel did you?"

"No! I got a very, very romantic place. You'll love it."

An hour passed before she shouted again, "Just tell me!"

"Nope."

Thirty minutes.

"Just tell me!"

"No, ma'am."

Forty minutes.

"Are we almost there?"

"Just enjoy the scenery. "

They'd taken the "scenic route" to avoid 270 and 495. But the scenic route had a lot of cars and stoplights. And right now the scenery was a Ruby Tuesday in a sprawling strip mall on one side of the road and a Chili's in a sprawling strip mall on the other side of the road.

Another thirty minutes passed, and the road did become scenic. They went through a quaint little town with old stone churches and antiques shops and then turned down a long dirt road. The dirt road got narrower. The scenery – the natural part – was pretty. But the man-made part of the scenery started to look a bit sketchy. Tami glanced at her husband. She slid her sunglasses up. "Hon?" she asked.

The GPS had lost its signal. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper with an address. He looked at it. "We're almost there," he said.

"Hon," she said after they'd driven about another two miles down the road and pulled up to something that looked like a dilapidated barn with three other little dilapidated cabinlike buildings around it. "Hon? Where are you taking me? This looks like a scene out of _Deliverance_. I keep expecting to see a banjo player."

He pulled into a dirt parking lot that had only one other car in it. There was a sign, falling off its sign post, that said "Red Fox Inn." Eric put the SUV in park. He looked to his left. He looked to his right. He opened the door and looked back. He closed the door. He looked back at the crumpled piece of paper. "Ummm…."

"Hon? Did you check this place out on the internet first?"

"It…uh…it didn't have a website."

"What do you mean it didn't have a website?"

"Maddie assured me –"

"Who's Maddie?"

"One of my Driver's Ed students. Maybe it's really fantastic inside."

"Eric – "

"Just stay here," he said. "Leave the car running." He rolled up their windows. "And keep the doors locked. I'll check it out."

Tami was shaking her head when he walked off to the main barn-like facility.

Five minutes later he climbed back into the car. He stared straight ahead. He didn't say anything.

"Hon?"

He slammed his fists down hard on the steering wheel. "I shouldn't have given her a B!"


	3. Chapter 3

As Eric drove, Tami glanced at the protruding line in his jaw. He looked as if he was about to explode. She decided to stare straight ahead out the windshield and not say anything. _Just stay quiet_, she told herself. _Don't speak. _He said he had cancelled their reservation when he went in, but he couldn't get the deposit back. She didn't dare ask him what the place had looked like inside.

The SUV bumped up and down as it went over a hole in the dirt road. Tami glanced at him again and saw that he was gripping the wheel. It looked as if his knuckles were about to turn white.

As he turned back onto the paved road, she looked out the window. The grass grew thickly in vibrant green strands across acres of farmland dotted by bales of hay and clusters of trees, including the dogwoods that had bloomed late this spring and now trailed their delicate white flowers in random piles across the earth. Several brown and black horses milled in the fenced field they were now passing, and beyond that a low, gray stone wall lined the road.

The SUV mounted a rolling hill and Eric took a curve as the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains loomed into sight in the distance, their peeks alternately topped with dark green pines, a cobalt haze, and whispy white clouds.

After coasting down a small hill and flying across the flat road for a distance, Eric startled her by swinging the SUV onto a dirt and gravel path and then into a field of grass, where he jerked it into park. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I screwed up. I'm sorry I can't be romantic. I'm sorry I ruined our first vacation since our honeymoon. I'm sorry you have a crappy husband who can't be trusted to do anything right except coach football."

"I trust you to grill," she said. "I trust you with my ribs and my burgers."

He turned slowly and looked at her. She couldn't read his eyes through his sunglasses. She took them off. They weren't angry. They were – what were they? –- how could she describe it? - - self-loathing.

"I trust you with my heart," she continued. "Because you've always treated it tenderly. A heart's a pretty big thing to trust someone with, you know."

He sighed. He looked out the windshield. His hand was on the gearshift. She put her hand over it, drew it into her lap, and squeezed.

"I wanted to…" He took his hand away. "I just…The place was supposed to have quaint private cabins so we'd be left alone. So no one would hear us…you know. Breakfast delivered in, so we wouldn't have to sit around yabbering with strangers. It wasn't supposed to look like that." He jerked the gear shift into reverse, slapped an arm around the back of her seat to make it easier to look behind himself, and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The SUV flew backward. He turned the wheel roughly until they were facing forward on the dirt road. He drove back in silence to the paved route, and only after he had turned on to it did he speak again. "Let's get a late lunch at that restaurant next to that little inn we passed in town. The one you said looked cute. We can check out the inn while we're there and see if maybe they have a room."

"It's a bed and breakfast, hon. No private cabin."

"I know. I'll survive."

In a few more miles they were back in the town, which was littered by small shops. They passed a small stone church and then Tami spied a large, dark brown wagon wheel propped against the wooden side of a house selling antiques. They took a right onto Main Street and soon pulled the SUV along the curb to park before walking a block to the inn and restaurant.

They quickly learned there was no room at the inn, but they settled into the thick wooden chairs at the restaurant. The décor was rustic and there were a lot of dead, stuffed animals decorating the rafters and the walls, which Tami did not think was a good sign. Yet the food was surprisingly good, and the waitress was friendly without being annoying. She actually looked at Tami and addressed her instead of doing what waitresses usually did, which was to pay all their attention to Eric. Tami never knew if that was because the man usually paid, or because Eric was good-looking. She was annoyed when waitresses flirted with him, and she loved that he never realized that's what they were doing, or - - at least - - he _pretended_ not to realize it.

"I'll try that resort," Eric said, taking out his cell phone.

"You said it was way too expensive," Tami said. "That we didn't have enough in checking. That we'd have to dip into savings. I know you hate to dip into savings. I don't want to make you do that. I know you like having that buffer, that it makes you feel safe." They'd had too many sudden job losses in the past. Unexpected pregnancies. Air conditioning break downs. Trees through the window. Pipes bursting in the ceiling. Cars getting totaled. She didn't blame him for wanting the buffer. Maybe she teased him a little, but she didn't blame him, and she'd never had to worry when something unexpected happened.

"Well, I can sell my deer rifle to replace some of it. That'll cover one night at least."

Tami reached across the table and put a hand over his. "Oh, hon, no, you just got that."

"It's a'ight. I probably won't have time to go hunting next year anyway."

Eric called the resort. "Yeah," he said into his cell while Tami ate her peanut soup. Now that was something she hadn't come across in Dillon. It was unusual. Good. A little sweet and a little spicy all at once. "I wanted to get a room for the next three nights." Pause. "Yeah." Longer pause. "Oh. Okay."

He put the cell phone down on the table. "Well, they're booked."

"The entire resort?"

"There's some conference or something this week apparently. He said probably everything's booked."

Tami's spoon clanked against the bowl. "Let's just go home, hon," she said. "It's one. We can hit two wineries on the way home, do a couple tastings, buy a case or two, get a nice dinner somewhere in Maryland, get home by ten, sleep in our own bed tonight."

"No. You wanted a vacation, you're gonna get a vacation."

"Julie's at home. We'll sleep in our own bed tonight, and then the next two nights we'll get a hotel somewhere outside of Phili, that's not too expensive. A nice hotel. Enjoy ourselves. It's fine, hon. Really. I really just want some time alone with you. That's all I really want. No Gracie clamoring for our attention. Some conversation. Some cuddling. Some uninterrupted, leisurely sex. That's all I really wanted."

His lips were pressed against his knuckles. He sighed. "A'ight," he muttered against his hand. "A'ight, we'll do that. But with this change." He took his hand away from his mouth. "We'll go to six wineries. I mapped it out before we left. I think we can hit six by the time the last one closes. We'll eat an early dinner here in Virginia after the fourth or fifth winery, and then hit one or two more. You can do all the tastings, and I'll do all the driving. I'll only taste at one or two. After the last winery, we'll drive home and you can sleep the whole drive home if you want. At least enjoy yourself today, babe. Really enjoy yourself. A'ight?"

She nodded. "This is spectacular peanut soup," she said, shaking the spoon above the bowl. "Spectacular. At least I got to try peanut soup. That alone was worth the drive." She smirked. "Well, that and getting to see your face when we pulled up to that barn."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: **

"These wines just keep getting better and better, hon!" Tami swiveled the wine in her glass and took such a long, drawn-in sniff that Eric thought she would have to faint from lack of breath, and then drained the glass. "Don't they, hon?" she asked him, looking at him with excessively wide eyes.

His tongue snaked out between his curving lips before he pulled it back in. "More likely you just keep getting drunker and drunker." This was their sixth and last winery. They'd had an early dinner after the fourth winery, but the food hadn't appeared to absorb too much of the alcohol Tami had consumed. Of course, it probably hadn't helped that she'd also had a glass of wine _with_ dinner.

He wasn't tasting at all unless she particularly liked a wine and wanted to buy a few bottles. Then he'd take a little taste of that specific wine just to make sure her judgment was sound. If he didn't think it was, he'd draw her aside away from the bar and the other tasters and whisper something like, "Listen, you think you love this right now, but you'll regret it later. This is an $18 bottle. There's a California chardonnay you like that's only $12 a bottle, and I know you really like it a lot better than this. Trust me on this one."

And she'd do something like smile really broadly and put a hand on both his cheeks and lean in and rub his nose with her nose and say, "I trust you, hon, I trust you, sugar, I really do. I trust you soooo much." And he'd chuckle, low and happy, and put an arm around her waist and lead her back to the tasting bar. And if she said she really liked a wine and he tasted it and thought it was one she really, truly, would like sober, he bought half a case. After the third winery, whenever they'd get back in the SUV, she'd turn to him and kiss him madly and deeply for a couple of minutes, running her hands all through his hair and over his shoulders and across his chest, before saying, "Drive on, chaufer!" And he'd answer, "As you wish, madam," and kick the SUV into gear and hit the road with a huge grin on his face.

When they left this, their sixth and last winery, driving past the grapevines growing up against the supporting wires, it was getting dark, and there wasn't much lighting out on the country road. He drove for a while with the high beams on and, before getting back onto the paved road, he decided to pull into a secluded field and put the SUV in park. He turned off the headlights and turned on the overhead light. "You have fun, babe?" he asked.

"I had so much fun, Eric. I haven't had this much fun – " she put an arm .across his shoulders. "I don't know when I've had this much fun. Thanks for driving, sugar."

"Well, madam," he said, "I think maybe your chauffer deserves a tip."

"You want a tip?" She smiled, unbuckled her seatbelt, and said in a suggestive tone, "I'll give you a tip."

Her lips were warm and eager against his. He'd hope for this - a few grateful kisses. He knew he wasn't getting any sex tonight when they got home to Phili. She'd be dead asleep. And he wasn't getting any in the morning either. She'd be hung over. But tomorrow night, he hoped they'd make love. Until then, the kisses would have to hold him. At the moment, he wasn't expecting anything beyond that. So when she put a hand on his knee, he expected it to stay on his knee. He didn't expect her to slide it up to the top of his jeans, undo his snap, and yank down his zipper. He didn't expect her to slide it into his pants and start stroking him. And he most certainly didn't expect the lips that were on his lips to trail down, down, down…

"Oh, God, Tami! Oh, sweetheart." He threw his head back against the headrest. The fingers of one hand dug into her hair. The fingers of the other hand clenched the steering wheel. "Yes, Tami…please…mhmmm….that's so very, very…Tami? Tami, hon? Tami?" He bent his head down to look at her. The sound of a soft snore rose from his lap.

He grunted and clenched his teeth and sighed. He lifted her up slowly from his lap and lay her head back against the headrest of her seat. He tucked himself in and zipped himself up and buttoned his pants and winced. He reclined her seat, and she turned on her side and pulled her knees up and curled herself on the seat. He stretched the buckle around her and clicked it in. He shifted in his seat and winced again. "A'ight," he muttered to his sleeping wife. "I got a tip for you. Finish what you start. That's just a little tip. Because if you don't…a man can't drive comfortably. That's all." He put the SUV into reverse, backed out of the field onto the dirt road, and began the drive home.

About an hour beyond wine country, he got stuck in some serious traffic caused by some night construction, and he was glad Tami was sleeping soundly so she wouldn't be able to comment on his frustration and the subsequent language it inspired. At this rate, the drive was going to take five hours, not the three and half he had originally planned. Things eased up considerably when he reached a more rural area of Maryland, where he decided to pull off the highway to a motel. The land was flat around the clustered, low-rise, commercial center of the small town, which was littered by gas stations and fast food joints and car repair places and two chain motels, but in the distance, dark, wood-crested hills, coated with hickory and oak and maple trees, marked the landscape. He followed the neon glow of the motel sign.

He left Tami sleeping in the locked car for a minute, checked in, got their key, carried her to the room, turned down the blankets, lay her on the bed, took off her shoes, and tucked her in. He went back and got their suitcase. He stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed next to her, pressed his stomach against her back, draped an arm around her, and murmured, "I love you," even though she couldn't hear him. "I love you, Tami Taylor. Welcome to your dream vacation at the Econo Lodge in Godknowswhere, Maryland."

It wasn't a minute before he was asleep himself.

/-*-/

"Hon, are you okay?" Eric stood leaning against the sink that lined the wall immediately outside the motel bathroom. The door was mostly closed and a thin ray of light escaped beneath it. "You want me to come in? Hold your hair or something?"

"Just go away, Eric. Please, just go away."

He didn't. He stood by the door. He heard her vomit and flush and then heard the shower turn on. That was when he went back to the bed, turned on the light to his left, and sat and waited for her.

She came out wrapped in only a towel, her hair wet and matted. She put a smaller hand towel on her pillow so it wouldn't get soaked by her hair and sat on the bed and groaned.

"Sorry, hon," he said. "You'll feel better in the morning." He reached over to the nightstand and handed her a glass of water. "Drink some so you don't get dehydrated and make your headache worse. Small sips. So it doesn't make you throw up."

She obeyed. Then she lay down on top of the sheets but did not pull the blanket up. She draped a hand across her forehead and closed her eyes.

Eric rubbed his cheek. He was already starting to get a little bit of stubble. He wished he didn't have to shave every single morning to keep it under control, but Tami liked a smooth cheek. Given all the time she spent on her hair and her makeup and picking out just the right clothes, he supposed he could manage to do that much for her without complaining. He'd grown a beard once. She'd hinted and hinted until he finally shaved it all off. A few years later, he'd attempted a goatee. She nixed that one as well. Two years after that, he'd gone for the half-growth look. Finally she'd just been frank with him. "It's not just that I like the way you look better when you're clean shaven, hon" she'd said, "it's that I like the way you feel when we kiss and when you...you know...do _that_." After that, he'd never gone more than two days without shaving.

He looked down at her on the bed and watched her breathing level. She was back asleep already. He was reaching for the light when she shifted and her towel fell open. His hand hesitated on the lamp as he took a moment to admire her beauty. He clicked the light off, pulled the wet towel out from under her, and pulled the blanket up to tuck it around her.

He lay down and tried to go back to sleep. Fifteen minutes later, he gave up and went to the bathroom where he took an excessively cold shower before returning to bed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Tami woke up the next morning, groaned, and rolled over to see if there was a clock on her nightstand. She saw instead a glass of water, and next to that a bottle of aspirin. Lying in front of the aspirin was the motel notepad, with Eric's scrawl: "Went to find you some real coffee. Be back soon."

She was taking two asprin when Eric opened the motel door. It clicked shut loudly behind him. He was holding a tray with two coffee cups in one hand and a paper bag in the other. "Got Starbucks because I didn't think the motel coffee would suit you."

She dragged herself into a sitting position. "Yep. It's not decent coffee unless it's so bitter it makes your face wince." She drained her glass of water.

He sat on the bed next to her. "How you feelin'?"

"Better. After I threw up that one time, my stomach was fine. I'm not nauseous. Just the headache."

"Sorry. Hope you had fun, though. It seemed like you had a lot of fun." He handed her the cup of coffee. She took it and started to sip. "You told me you had a lot of fun."

"I did."

He put his coffee on the edge of the end table, unrolled the paper bag, and pulled out a wrapped breakfast sandwich. "Bacon, egg, and cheese. Good hangover food."

"Ugggghhh…ohhh…." She put a hand across her stomach. "Sorry. No. I don't think so. Just the coffee for now."

"Thought you weren't nauseous anymore."

"I wasn't until you said egg."

He shrugged and bit down into the sandwich he'd bought her. "Mhmmmm…" he murmured.

"Where are we anyway?" she asked.

"Some small town in Maryland. I could tell you the exit number, if that'd help."

She laughed.

"It does have a Starbucks, though."

"What town doesn't anymore?" she asked.

"I was falling asleep at the wheel. Figured I better stop. Plus, I thought you might wakeup sometime and want to vomit. I'm prescient that way."

"Prescient?" she asked, sitting back against the headboard and kicking him with her foot to get him to move so she could stretch her legs out. He came around the other side of the bed.

He wolfed down the last two bites of her sandwich and tossed the paper wrap and the bag in the trash can before sitting down next to her and stretching out his legs. He held his coffee in two hands on his lap. "Yes, prescient."

"That's what I get for making you help Julie with her S.A.T. prep, I guess."

"Like she needed my help," Eric said. "Can you believe our baby has her B.A.?"

Julie had not gone to her own graduation. She'd taken the maximum load every semester, jammed in some summer school classes, and graduated early. Tami had been upset - - not that Julie had applied herself and saved on tuition, of course, but that she hadn't wanted to go to the official graduation. Tami didn't think Julie should just have the office mail her degree. She wanted photos in cap and gown, damn it. She wanted a family picture. She wanted proud mother and daughter hugs. It was like Julie had already moved on into adulthood. Like she couldn't be bothered with anymore stepping stones.

"When do we have to check out?" Tami asked. "I don't really feel like being in a moving car at the moment. I think I'll be fine after some coffee and a little time. Maybe you can go down to the continental breakfast and get me a donut. I mean, I appreciate the thought with the sandwich…but I'm thinking sugar."

"We have an hour. We'll relax a bit, and then I'll see you get a donut." He sipped his coffee. He turned and grinned at her. "Hey, Tami, do you remember what you did last night? After the last winery? In the car?"

Her face reddened. "No," she lied. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were loose. Very loose. Right there in the SUV." He was still looking at her and smiling. "You remember," he said.

"Fine. I do. I remember the first part but then…Did I pass out on you?"

He nodded, lips pursed.

"Sorry. No satisfaction?"

He shook his head. Then he smiled and leaned over and kissed her. He pulled away and grimaced.

"Haven't brushed my teeth since I upchucked," she said. "Sorry. I'll do that now." She put down the coffee and went to the sink.

"Romantic vacation, huh?" he asked. "Has it been everything you dreamed it would be?"

She came back and slid close to him. His arm went around her. "Actually, Eric, yesterday was the most fun I've had with you in ages. I didn't need a resort. I just needed time. And you."

"And the equivalent of eight glasses of wine."

"Did I really drink that much?"

"It was over a long period of time." He kissed her forehead. "Listen, I been looking around this town this morning while you were sleeping. This commercial part's crappy, but a little farther on it's got a cute little downtown. You'd call it cute anyway. Lots of little shops. A local art gallery. A wine shop. Not that you need anymore wine. And the girl at the Starbucks told me what the nicest restaurant in town is."

"Were you flirting with the barista?"

"I was making inquiries, Tami. Besides, she couldn't have been more than 24. I prefer them 29 at least."

She smacked him on the shoulder. He squeezed her. "Listen, babe. It's a nice little town. Quiet. No conferences anywhere near here for anyone to be going to. And she told me about this b&b a few miles out, up on the hill. And I went and checked it out this morning. And you'd like it. Gardens. Porch swings. Walking trail out into the woods by a creek. No television. Victorian era décor. And there's only one other couple staying there right now. And they said they'd deliver breakfast _in_ to our room in the morning. And their biggest room, the one with a private bathroom right inside it - none of that going out into the hallway nonsense - and it has a shower and a big soaking tub. It's up in the attic, kind of blocked off from the rest of the house. It's still available. I told them I'd talk to you and call them back. What do you say?"

"No TV? Can you handle that, babe?"

"For you, Tami, love, anything. Especially after the way I screwed up."

"Okay. Sounds good. A nice walk would clear my head. But what are we going to do after we've seen the shops and walked along the creek?"

He raised an eyebrow. He grinned. "I can think of a few things. I told you I checked the place out. I knocked on the walls. They're pretty thick."

/-*-/

"There's a donut shop downtown," Eric told Tami when she was feeling a little better. "Not a Dunkin' or a Krispy Cream or anything. Local. make everything in house and have some unique, special donuts. You'll love it."

"You saw it this morning?"

"No, my girlfriend at the Starbucks told me about it."

Tami hrmphed. Eric packed up their suitcase and went to take it to the car and check out, leaving Tami to drink a second glass of water and stare at the television for a few more minutes.

They drove to the downtown, parked, and walked straight to the donut shop. Tami devoured two donuts and then told him to buy her a third. He only ate one because he'd already had the breakfast sandwiches, after all, and he didn't need a sugar high to compensate for a hangover.

Some powdered sugar stuck to the outside of her lips. Eric licked his lips to give her the hint, and she followed suit, getting off the last sweet morsel. "Sugar," she moaned. It was a second before he realized she was talking about the actual granular substance and not addressing him by one of her pet names. "Sugar," she repeated. "God was having one of His most brilliant moments when He created it."

"Not nearly as brilliant as when He created you." He winked.

She laughed. "Do you have a book with all these lines?"

"How could I have a book? I had to play off of you for that one. I'm just good at this."

"Did you practice on the Starbucks barista this morning?"

"Well, she was cute," he conceded.

"Really now?"

"Yep. And unlike you, she appreciated my clever repertoire."

"I think you mean repartee, hon. A repertoire is a set of stock pieces that a performer knows well and is prepared to perform. I guess those words weren't part of the SAT prep you did with Julie."

"Well that definition fits too. I'm a good performer, babe. I'm well practiced."

She chortled and reached for his hand. "I love that you make me laugh."

From a table next to them, the gentleman component of an elderly couple asked, "How long have you two been married?" The pair must have been 95 at least, to judge by the look of them, but they were still kicking around pretty keen, apparently.

"Twenty-one years," Eric answered him.

"Twenty-two," Tami corrected.

"And she still laughs at your jokes," the old man said. "Now that's true love. Hang onto that one, young man."

Eric smiled at the man. "Oh, I intend to." He looked back at his wife and squeezed her hand. "I intend to."


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

After they toured the downtown shops, Tami and Eric got to the bed and breakfast around three. That's when the inn keeper said the room Eric had seen earlier that morning would be cleaned and fully readied.

"It's perfect!" Tami exclaimed when they walked into their room.

"Ceiling's a little low, I know," Eric said, looking up. He didn't have far to look. He wasn't bumping his head, at least. "I feel like a giant."

"Stop grumbling. It's adorable." She walked past the queen-sized bed through a narrow hallway to the bathroom and glanced in to see a sink, toilet, and glass shower stall. She felt the thick, soft towels hanging on the back of the door. Real towels. Not motel towels. A few more steps outside the bathroom she saw the large in-ground Jacuzzi beneath a skylight where the ceiling actually raised up quite a ways from its previous low.

"Oh, wow," she said. "When you said soaking tub, I didn't think you meant…oh wow…that's really…wow." Resting on the back left of the tile rim of the Jacuzzi was a small wicker basket with an assortment of lotions, oils, and decorative soaps. Right next to a sign that warned not to use them in the Jacuzzi. Atop the tile on the right back side of the Jacuzzi a bottle of champagne nuzzled in a bucket of ice and, in front of that stood two flutes. A dozen red roses sprung from a glass vase on the corner rim. "How sweet, hon, did you get those for me?"

"Inn keeper wanted to know if we were celebrating anything. I said we were celebrating our freedom."

She turned and kissed him. "Mhmmm…perfect, hon. It's perfect. I don't know if I'm gonna drink any champagne, though, after all that wine I had last night."

"A'ight. It's my turn anyway. I'll drink it all."

She slid away from him. "Let me see the rest." She walked past the Jacuzzi to a little adjoining sitting room that had a wicker, cushioned love seat, a coffee table, and a flat screen TV. "You said there was no television."

"Well, I meant no cable. It doesn't get any reception. But there's a DVD player and they have a library downstairs. Inn keeper said we could take anything we want. We can watch a romantic comedy later if you want. Anything for you."

She laughed. "What about a British period piece? Will you even go that far for me?" Tami was more of a goofy romantic comedy girl, usually, but Julie had gotten her interested in more sophisticated fare, and their move to Philadelphia had deepened her interest.

"Yeah…yeah…I can handle that. Regency era though," he said.

"What?" she laughed. "You actually have a preference for era?" Tami couldn't believe Eric knew the difference between one era of British history and the next. She figured it was all just stiff shirts and boring dialogue to him. She saw his smile and twinkling eyes and suddenly realized. "Ah. You like the Regency era dresses. Because they show off the women's busts so much. I see."

"Those Victorians were repressed."

She rolled her eyes and turned her back to him in order to gaze out the little window in the sitting area, which overlooked the gardens.

"Hey," he said, coming up behind her, "as if you watch those movies for anything other than Colin Grant and Hugh Firth."

"It's Colin Firth, hon. And Hugh Grant."

"Close enough." He wrapped his arms around her from behind and she leaned back and slid her hands up his arms.

"You should just be glad none of them are blondes. Just proves you're my type." She turned in his arms and kissed him. "And you're better looking than all those guys. Except maybe Colin Firth."

He made a play of offense and pulled away. "If only I had the luxury of a personal makeup artist and someone to dress me." He turned and walked back past that Jacuzzi and down the little hall to the bedroom area.

She trailed behind him and when he turned, she said, "I'll dress you." With a sexy sashay she approached and slid her arms around his waist. "Or at least I'll _undress_ you."

"Yeah? You feelin' well enough? You up for a little…little somethin' somethin'?"

She slid her hand down to the front of his pants. "Well you're certainly up for it."

"And you call _me_ juvenile."

/-*-/

Eric was greedy. She'd had him worked up for the past twenty-four hours, what with her in-between winery kisses and petting, with her half-finished oral ministrations, with her post-shower, towel-unraveled, naked sleeping. It didn't turn out to be the long, leisurely, seductive, drawn out vacation sex they'd promised each other. He apologized for skimping on the foreplay.

"It's okay," she assured him after. "We have hours and hours and hours to go, without any interruptions at all from Gracie."

He rolled to his side in the bed and kissed her tenderly. He cupped her breast as his thumb made unhurried, gentle circles. "You want to go for two already?" she asked with a low, sexy laugh. "We're going to take our time this time, right?"

"We're going to do exactly what you want," he said. "Anything and everything you want."

She wanted a "well behaved" full body massage using one of the oils in the basket by the Jacuzzi. He walked naked down the narrow hall and returned with the brown wicker receptacle. Sitting on the bed next to her, he extended the offering. "Choose."

She took a long time to sort through the tiny bottles. She knew she was torturing him, but he was quite penitent for being in such a hurry the first time, and he was now very patient. She wasn't going to tell him she didn't actually mind his eagerness the first time, that it wasn't often he was that overcome, and that she found it kind of sexy - - every once in a while. This time, though, she wanted the full treatment, so she let him think he had some penance to do.

She lay first on her back and watched him with a smile as he warmed the massage oil by rubbing his hands briskly together. His touch was soft but firm and soothingly warm. He started with her shoulders and worked his way down as he rubbed and kneaded and stroked, "quite professionally" he prided himself. "No funny business," he promised when he reached her breasts, and even though he wasn't "trying anything" they responded to his touch anyway.

When he was done with her front he told her to roll over. He continued his pleasing massage until she was rubbed down and fully relaxed. As she lay on her stomach with her cheek pressed to the pillow, her eyes were closed with satisfaction. By this point she was quite ready to greet the little nips he made at her neck with a happy murmur.

His lips trailed her body, a light, tickling massage down her back and over every spot his hands had previously stroked. He made his way all the way to her ankles and then back up to her neck. From behind her he pressed his body against hers and the evidence was quite clear that he wasn't going to be able to behave himself much longer. "Tami," he breathed in her ear, "Damn but you're beautiful."

She answered with an "Mhmmmmmm…." and then a shift of her hips against the sheet below her, and then a "_Now_."

"Like this?" he asked, sliding his oil-slick hands underneath her and between her thighs. "Or do you want to turn around?"

"Like this," she answered, "to start." His teasing hands parted her thighs gently and he raised her up slightly on her knees before he eased into her. It was slow this time, and seductive, and everything they promised themselves it would be, and halfway through she told him to stop and rolled on her back and welcomed him in again, wanting to see his eyes. She begged him to keep them open, because she loved the way they became not just darkened by desire but a washed in a kind of tender longing for her.

They must have fallen asleep soon afterward, because it was 6:30 when she turned and looked at the clock. There had been plenty of lead-up and after-cuddling and he had paced himself with amazing discipline this time, but she was quite sure it hadn't taken them three hours. They'd had a little nap, apparently. She shook him awake.

He smiled impishly. "At your service, babe."

"I don't want more sex!" She sat up and swiveled her legs off the bed. "I'm hungry. I'm famished. We never ate lunch."

"That's because you gorged yourself on three donuts."

"Well, you had a breakfast sandwich **and** a donut." She was in the bathroom now, starting the shower, yelling after him.

He was still lounging on the bed. "Two breakfast sandwiches," he hollered after her. "I ate my own first before I brought you one and then you forced me to eat yours."

"Forced?" She stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the water running.

"You're persuasive, babe."

"We're going to that nice restaurant your Starbucks girlfriend told you about, right? When did you make the reservation for?"

He sat bolt upright. "Reservation?" he asked. "Do you think we need one?"

Tami sighed. "Your cute barista said it was **the** _**nicest**_restaurant in town."

"Damn!" he muttered and made a dive for his cell phone. He picked up the informational folder the innkeeper had left on the night stand and began looking for the number of the restaurant.

Tami shook her head. "I'm taking a shower," she said while he paged through the folder. "And no offense, I love you dearly, and that was some pretty amazing lovemaking, but I don't want company."

No response.

"Do you hear me Eric?"

"Yeah. Yeah," he said, clearly distracted by his current task.

"I'm just telling you now in case you get a notion in your head after you've called the restaurant. I want this shower to myself. "

She went into the bathroom. Just in case, she locked the door. When the door knob rattled five minutes later, only to be abandoned when met with resistance, she knew she'd made a good call.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Tami wasn't really paying attention when she opened the bathroom door and she let out a startled scream at the unexpected looming figure. "God, Eric! Why are you standing _right there_?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I didn't _**need**_ a reservation. So I didn't mess up. We can just walk right on in."

"Why wouldn't you need a reservation if it's the nicest restaurant in town?"

Eric's smug smile faded. "I don't know." Maybe he should have researched the restaurant first. He didn't want another dilapidated barn episode on this trip. But his barista had yet to steer him wrong. She was right in suggesting he check out the bed and breakfast. She was right about the donut shop. She was a twenty-something struggling artist with a nose ring, after all. It's not as if she were a teenage driver's ed student. He turned his nose up slightly and tried to sound self-assured. "Probably because it's a small town."

"Well I'm dressing up. Do you think it's dressy? I want to get dressed up." He stepped back, and, holding the towel tight across her chest, she walked to the bedroom. He turned in the same direction. "Well don't watch me!" she insisted.

"Sorry," he muttered. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Don't you want a shower?"

"I don't think there's any hot water left. What were you doing in there, anyway?"

"Well, Eric, I was masturbating, obviously. Clearly I didn't get enough this afternoon."

He turned slowly toward the hall. "I'll wait for you in the sitting room."

"You're not wearing that."

He replied as he walked down the hall past the jacuzzi to the sitting room, "These are my best blue jeans, Tami. No holes or anything. And this shirt even has buttons."

She followed him a couple steps so she could still see him as he sat in the wicker arm chair. "Well, that's fine. Just be aware you have a considerably better chance of getting me naked and in the jacuzzi tonight if you wear a suit. You did bring one, didn't you?"

"Of course I did, Tami. I'm aware that I almost always get laid after black tie affairs."

**/-*-/**

He looked fantastic in his suit. It was the black one with gray tie, and he looked like something out of an old black and white Italian mobster movie, if only Cary Grant had played an Italian mobster. He hadn't, had he? Tami had felt pretty good walking in on his arm, and she had been relieved for him when the restaurant really did turn out to be nice. It was only half full but at least half the people were nicely dressed. The other half were in their nicest blue jeans, but that's how it went these days. There wasn't hardly anywhere anymore, not even church, where you could expect everyone to be dressed up.

"I take it you don't want wine," he said when the waiter left them with the wine list.

"Actually…my hangover's long gone. Maybe just a glass. You order for me." She saw him tense up. It was probably just another opportunity to mess up in his eyes. He could order the wrong thing. She didn't understand why he'd be worried about it. He'd done a pretty good job yesterday guiding her not to buy the wrong wines drunk. But he clearly felt on the spot. Well, she'd help him out a little. "Order me something white, because I'm definitely going to have the Maryland crab cakes." When he didn't appear to relax, she said, "And don't forget I don't like Sauvignon Blanc. And Riesling's too sweet. And I like Pinot Grigo better than - "

"- Tami, just order for yourself."

She pouted. "But I like it when you order for me."

"No you don't." He closed the wine list and slid it over to her.

She sighed and opened it. "Okay, get me the Chardonnay." She pointed. "That one. But I want you to order it. And get me the crab cakes. I'm being romanced. I shouldn't have to speak on my own behalf."

He laughed. "That'll be the day. That'll be the day when you don't speak on your own behalf."

She kept making little murmuring sounds while she was eating. "I feel like someone must be petting you," he said. "You like it, I take it?"

She pointed with her fork. "We have to come back every year. Once a year. For the bed and breakfast and the crabcakes."

"Okay."

"Wow? That quickly you agree? Not going to complain about the expense?"

"Tami, I got laid twice this afternoon and I think there might be a jacuzzi in my future."

"Oh, of course, I should have known."

"And…you look happy. You look like maybe I've made you happy with," he gestured around, "all this. Like maybe I didn't mess up too bad. And you deserve to be romanced. More often than…you deserved to be romanced a lot. I love you."

"Oh, hon. I love you too."

"So have I earned back all my points?"

She lifted her wine and looked at him over the top of it. "Your points?"

"Yeah, I figure I got negative 100 for that first place. I figure I earned back 10 with the peanut soup at that place in Virginia. Then 20 for all the designated driving to the wineries. Maybe 10 for the donut shop. You really liked those donuts. And the bed and breakfast. That's worth 30 at least, and then this restaurant is another 20…well…that's only 90…but almost I'm back at zero now, right?"

"Sugar, you've been back on the positive side of the equation for a while. Do you know when you shot back up onto the positive side?"

"When you saw the jacuzzi?"

She laughed softly. "No, hon." He really had no idea. She smiled. He really had no idea how sweet he could be precisely at those moments when he wasn't _trying_ to be romantic. "It was when I was throwing up in the middle of the night last night and you asked me if I wanted you to hold my hair."

"You told me to go away."

"Because I didn't want to you to see me like that. Not because I didn't appreciate it."

He set his hand on the table and toyed with his knife. "Women are strange. Wives should come with a manual."

"I don't know, hon," she said, covering her hand with his, "You do pretty well playing it by heart."

His smile reflected in the silver of the knife, and a quiet happiness engulfed her.

**/AND THAT THERE'S THE END/**


End file.
